Circumstantial Evidence
by zaluzianskya
Summary: About two things Jane was absolutely positive. First, Porrim was a vampire. Well, probably. And second, she was really hot.


She's not exactly unpopular, but neither is she one of the "cool kids". Jane Crocker is just sort of there—she doesn't have many friends, since schoolwork is so much more important. Besides, she prefers to socialize online with people in such far-away locales as New York and Texas and Oceania. That's why, much to her chagrin, it takes her quite some time to notice the oddities surrounding her upperclassman, Porrim Maryam.

They don't even share any classes, so until today all she knew was that Porrim was an oddly pale Middle Eastern girl—albino, perhaps? But no, she has that long, beautiful black hair...—well known for her promiscuity, and who skips class so often it's a wonder she hasn't been expelled. Jane disapproves, obviously, but it's not on her to say anything. Quite unlike Jane, Porrim is, in fact, one of the "cool kids".

What makes her snap to attention is the conversation at her table during lunch one day, in which some of her acquaintances happen to be discussing Porrim's "extracurricular activities".

"I hear she's got a new guy every night," one girl whispers.

"It's not just guys," another shoots back.

Porrim walks by the table to get into the lunch line and they shut up, but Jane still blushes something fierce. She always disapproved, in principle, of... of girls like _that_ , but somehow it still feels wrong to listen to people talking about her that way.

But she doesn't say anything.

"Have you seen the hickeys she gives?" someone whispers as soon as Porrim is out of earshot. "They aren't even bruises, they're just straight up bite marks."

"Damn, she must be fierce in bed." The guy who says that looks up at her with a thoughtful look on his face, and everyone bursts into laughter.

Jane quietly finishes her lunch and is about to stand up when she hears, "No, I mean it, look at this."

A cell phone is pulled out of a pocket and passed around. Despite Jane's feelings on the subject, her curiosity gets the better of her and she looks. It's a picture of somebody's neck and two puncture wounds that quite frankly don't look like anything a human is capable of inflicting.

"Maryam did this?"

"That's what Meenah said."

"Oh, hey, you ever notice how she never comes to school when the sun's out? What if she's a _vampire_?" It's said in a spooky tone of voice, and everybody laughs again.

It's a silly thing to say—though Jane does live in Maple Valley, Washington, where during the school year the sun is hidden by clouds more days than not, so the suggestion sticks with her. Is that really true? She never thought to track the days Porrim was absent and graph them against the weather. Seriously, who would even do that? But that photo, and how pale her skin is, and...

Jane can almost feel her gumshoe gambit free-falling into the negatives. She gets up, tosses out her garbage, and resolves to find out more.

* * *

It's silly. It's so, so silly. It's the silliest thing ever, but then Jane is a silly girl, and she has a mystery to clear up. Besides, if nothing comes of this, and nothing probably will, it's not like any harm will have been done, right? Obviously Porrim isn't a vampire—and if that's true, all Jane needs to do is prove it.

She goes back through the lunch line and buys a slice of garlic bread. From there it takes a minimum of sleuthing to find out where Porrim is sitting. ("Excuse me, where does Porrim Maryam usually sit?" she ask the lunch lady, and is informed that she usually sees Porrim head outside with her lunch.)

Jane finds Porrim off to one side of the front of the school, sitting under an awning. There are a few other students and teachers milling about, but the area where Porrim sits is pretty deserted. So Jane steels her nerves and sits down next to Porrim Maryam, certified Cool Kid. She's working on some homework and her lunch is nowhere to be seen.

Jane bites into her garlic bread. Porrim stares at her like she's crazy.

Once Jane has finished her mouthful, she tilts her head in feigned curiosity. "Is something wrong?"

"No, just... why are you sitting here?" She looks uncomfortable. Jane would be too, she supposes, if some complete stranger had just up and sat next to her when she wanted some alone time.

"Er, well... it's such a lovely day out." The sky is a dreary dark grey and it feels like it could rain at any moment. "I wanted to get some fresh air. I'm Jane. What's your name?"

"You know my name," Porrim says frankly. "You were sitting with those other kids who were talking about me. What are you up to?"

She should have put on a fake moustache and a silly hat.

When Jane doesn't respond right away, Porrim sighs. "Were you hoping for me to regale you with a tale of one of my sexual conquests? Because I'm not interested. My private life is private." Noticing the way Jane's eyebrows have wandered to the top of her forehead, she adds, "Yes, no matter how many people I choose to include in it. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Um. Actually, the thing is," Jane speaks up. "It's not really about that. It's just that people were cracking jokes about you being a vampire, you see. Hoo hoo! Of course, I didn't buy a word of it, but the circumstantial evidence _was_ rather compelling."

"A vampire. Really?"

"That's the rumor." She's not sure if it really counts as a rumor.

"Huh." She frowns in contemplation. "Jane, was it? I like you. You're bold, I can tell. So I'm going to let you in on a little secret."

She smiles, showing off two unnaturally pointed fangs. Jane's blood suddenly feels like ice.

"I am a vampire. Of course, I know you won't say anything—" And just as quickly as Jane can blink, Porrim suddenly blurs out of existence and reappears on her other side. "—will you?"

"Of course not! Your private life is private, after all." Jane is going to tell the entire internet about this. Well, she'll leave out the identifying details. Okay, maybe she's just going to tell Roxy and Dirk and Jake. That's the most likely scenario, if she's being honest with herself.

"You're trembling," Porrim observes. "Please note that I don't force myself on others. I may be a creature straight out of some patriarchal wet dream, but I operate on a strict code of consensuality."

"That's— good to know," Jane remarks. It really is. For a second, she felt like one of those detectives who foolishly stumbled head-first into Knowing Too Much.

"Of course, if you'd _like_ to go out with me... here's my number." She scribbles it down on the side of her notebook paper, rips it off, and hands it to Jane. "Also? Garlic doesn't do anything to us. I rather like it, actually."

She gets to her feet, waves goodbye, and starts back toward the front entrance.

Jane stares at her retreating back for a moment, then glances down at the scrap of paper.

Oh, what the hell.

Why not? Porrim _is_ beautiful—and now more than ever, Jane wants to know more.


End file.
